


Only Forever

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane, Immortal Husbands, Late at Night, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-29 23:36:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: These quiet moments with Alec are Magnus’s favorite. He still has an overwhelming weakness for grand gestures and opulence but there’s something to be said for greeting his husband at the end of a long work day, for hearing their shower turn on while he nurses a glass of wine, for the entirely predictable and downright quaint way they’ll end the night.





	Only Forever

Straightening from where he’d been hunched over his desk, Magnus eyes his apothecary. He makes sure everything’s in its place and takes a last few moments to review his schedule for tomorrow before bottling up the extremely finicky potion he’d been working on for most of the evening.

He raises his arms over his head in a leisurely stretch, groaning a little as the mild pain combines with the relief.

Tilting his head in both directions, Magnus feels the blood rush through his body. It’s been a dreadfully busy day and there’d been no shortage of tasks to complete. He’s ready to finally take some time for himself and decompress a little.

He strolls out into the hallway, blinking slowly to let his eyes adjust to the dimness in the rest of the loft. With a negligent wave of his hand, his gramophone starts playing-- something slow and deep enough to wrap around his heart and squeeze, just a little, just enough to feel it.

A few seconds later, he’s settling in a chair. Like this, he’s a shadow. A solitary lamp is lit in the corner and he feels like the only man in the world as he watches the rain fall in sheets outside. 

The silence is cozy and it’s something he welcomes. Not always, he admits to himself with a wry shake of his head. No, not always.

But when he’s in the mood, he sometimes thinks the perfect evening is a bottle of his favorite red, a thunderstorm, and his own company.

So thinking, it’s the work of a moment to summon a glass of Merlot, the weak light gleaming off the cut crystal. He takes a moment to admire the wine and the music and he smiles a little as he brings the glass up to his mouth.

The past month has been a never-ending deluge-- emergencies every other day, exasperating clients by the dozens, and his pet research project has hit a wall that he can’t figure out no matter how much he studies his equations.

He doesn’t know how long this little slice of solace will last so Magnus sinks into this in-between time.

Letting the music lap over him like the gentlest wave, Magnus closes his eyes, lets his head fall back to rest against the chair.

It takes him a little while to guess at the feeling that’s plucking its way through his chest but when he does, it surges for a moment before quieting back down.

It’s contentment.

It’s been ages since Magnus has felt so at peace. Peace is hard won and easily lost-- that’s a fact of his life. But as he thinks back, Magnus knows that it’s been years since he was so out of sorts, since the last time he felt his life was in shambles.

He opens his eyes and his gaze drops immediately to his hand where the lamplight makes his favorite ring glint gold.

His practice is thriving-- there are barely enough hours in the day for all of the people who come to him, for all of the consultations he fulfills around the world-- and his friends are happy and healthy and he’s still so in love that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Those three things have never been the case. There’s always something off, something not quite right about Magnus’s picture. He’s learned to find the happiness, the joy, in the little moments that comprise an immortal’s life. Without taking the time to enjoy them-- a dinner with an old friend, an unexpected but rewarding ending to a good book-- he knows that he would’ve gone insane long ago.

But now that he looks around at the life he’s managed to build, he’s struck that things worked out. Not to say that everything is perfect because that’s so far from the truth that Magnus almost laughs, but it’s everything he’s always wanted and that realization wraps around his ribs hard enough to hurt. A decade or two are nothing to an immortal but he can hardly believe that things have been so wonderful for so long. There was a time not that long ago when the knowledge would've sent him into a spiral, wondering when it would all fall apart. Now, the realization does nothing but make his heart burn bright with happiness as he trusts this life he's built with another.

He loses himself in his thoughts, enjoying the quiet and his own company in a way that’s not always possible. He debates reaching for a book before dismissing the idea almost immediately. It’s not something most know, but Magnus is given to bouts of introspection that sometimes leave him melancholic for days afterward.

He knows this time is different. It’s a quiet evening and as Magnus watches the thunderstorm rage outside, he quietly revels in his unexpected but blessed happiness.

He’s startled out of his thoughts then, when the front door bangs open and the sound of cursing and wet boots fill the foyer.

Shaking his head a little, Magnus relaxes deeper into his seat and magics a refill-- his third or fourth at this point, he’s not quite sure.

“Hey, you,” Alec says as he comes into the living room. Magnus looks over and it’s ridiculous, but his heart turns over. Alec looks like a bedraggled rat-- hair dripping in his eyes, fierce scowl on his face that would send most of his subordinates running for cover, and his jeans have a patch burned through that wasn't there when he left earlier.

“Hey, you.” Magnus raises a brow. “Forget your umbrella?”

Alec glares though it’s without little heat. Magnus sees him roll his eyes before he’s turning toward their bedroom. “Patrol tonight was so shitty,” he calls out over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell me that the big, bad Head of the Institute gets affected by something so mundane as a little rain.”

Magnus bites his lip to keep the laughter out of his tone but it escapes him as he hears a very deliberate pause before his husband’s neutral reply. “Babe, have you looked outside? It’s a goddamn monsoon outside and the new recruits just had to get their hours in this week.”

“And no one else could take them?”

Alec’s voice is muffled but Magnus hears his snort clearly. “I wish,” he thinks he hears Alec mutter. “But it’s my responsibility.”

Taking a deep drink of his wine, Magnus takes a moment to appreciate the notes before he swallows, calling out, “You better not catch a cold-- I have too much on my plate to deal with you sick.”

There’s no answer for a moment and then Alec’s leaning against their doorjamb, hair still dripping, in just his underwear.

Magnus shamelessly ogles him.

“The last time I was sick was eight years ago and you enjoyed the hell out of taking care of me,” Alec replies with a grin. “You loved having me at your mercy.”

Raising a brow, Magnus meets Alec’s eyes. “I didn’t hear you complaining at the time, did I?”

Alec huffs out a laugh though his gaze softens as he treats Magnus to his own onceover. “You know I loved it-- even if I was so high on whatever tonic you made me take that I barely knew I was in the room.”

“And you were better in two days instead of the flu’s usual seven,” Magnus replies brightly.

He watches as Alec shakes his head a little, laughing, before his husband is turning back toward the bedroom, slapping a hand on the doorjamb and hitching a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. I’ll be out in a few.”

Waving him on, Magnus looks down at his drink and sighs. It seems to heave from his very soul, it’s so deep. They’ve had a hundred conversations just like this and it had surprised Magnus a little, at first, how much fun bickering could be. Before Alec, his relationships could hardly ever tolerate gentle ribbing and any arguments were real-- instead of barely concealed flirting, any verbal repartee had been a power play no matter how silk their tones grew.

These quiet moments with Alec are Magnus’s favorite. He still has an overwhelming weakness for grand gestures and opulence but there’s something to be said for greeting his husband at the end of a long work day, for hearing their shower turn on while he nurses a glass of wine, for the entirely predictable and downright quaint way they’ll end the night.

Sweeping a thumb over the base of his glass, Magnus toils away the few minutes it takes Alec to shower and get ready. Looking up at the padding of feet on bare floors, the sight that greets him is another assault in a line tonight.

Alec’s in a pair of sweatpants that have seen better days, an unzipped hoodie thrown on. His hair is dark and curling and no matter that Alec will be forty next month, there’s not a hint of silver in the locks, not a single sign betraying his age.

His husband settles on the arm of his chair, looking down at him with fond eyes as he drapes an arm over the chair back, the other one reaching for his half-empty wine glass. Downing the rest in one swallow, Magnus’s bemusement is fairly palpable as Alec hands him the empty glass back.

“Thank you, Alexander,” he says dryly.

Not deigning to respond, Alec leans into him, takes his now free hand to cup Magnus’s cheek. Magnus’s breath catches at the feather-light sweep of Alec’s thumb over his cheek as his husband leans down, at his voice, low and hoarse in the quiet of their loft. 

“It looks like I’ve been remiss in my husbandly duties, Mr. Lightwood-Bane. Do forgive me.”

“As long as you fix your grievous error immediately, my darling,” Magnus murmurs in the space between their lips. 

He sees the quick uptick of Alec’s mouth in a quiet smile before his eyes close as Alec kisses him. It starts slow and stays that way. A meeting of lips, the barest suggestion of tongue. Magnus allows himself to sink into the feeling, to let Alec wrap around him like the world’s best blanket-- everything safe and comfortable and familiar.

Things don’t heat up and they’re both content as a slow jazz song plays in the background, as rain pours down in buckets outside. The taste of wine on Alec’s mouth is irresistible and Magnus loses himself in Alec until his husband breaks things with a muttered curse.

Feeling Alec pull back, Magnus opens his eyes. He’s ready to dramatically plead betrayal but Alec’s sheepish expression gives him pause.

“I can’t keep kissing you hunched over like a gremlin.” With laughing eyes, he offers, “We either need to move to the couch or call it a night.”

Magnus gives Alec a onceover as he considers his options. Reaching out, he rests a hand on Alec’s thigh. “Let’s go to bed, darling.”

Smiling, Alec stands and holds out a hand to help Magnus out of his seat. Following Alec with hands still intertwined, Magnus waves his wine glass off to the kitchen to deal with tomorrow and as they pass the threshold to their bedroom, he pulls Alec back until they’re facing each other.

“Meet you in bed.”

Alec nods, stepping closer for a brief moment to lay a kiss along his hairline and Magnus wants to roll his eyes at such a gesture. Instead, he finds himself charmed, utterly and completely taken with Alec for the thousandth time.

Heading to the bathroom, Magnus completes his own nightly routine, undressing until he’s down to his underwear. Reaching for the robe on the back door, he slips into it, doesn’t bother tying it closed as he walks back into their bedroom a little while later.

Magnus’s side of the room is the only one illuminated. Alec’s turned off his bedside lamp and is laying under the pile of covers, doing his best impression of a lump. Discarding his robe and draping it over the chaise by the window, Magnus pulls his side of the sheets down, sliding into bed.

Almost immediately, Alec’s moving over, resting his head on Magnus’s chest, tangling their legs together.

Humming a little, Alec rubs his chin over Magnus’s heart and squeezes him closer. “You’re warm,” he mumbles appreciatively.

Laughing a little, Magnus merely replies, “You were probably an ice cube on patrol, Alexander. It’ll take a while for you to warm up.”

There’s a rustle of blankets as Alec leans up on one elbow to peer at Magnus. “Are you complaining,” he asks and the answer to his own question shines in his eyes.

Magnus scoffs, pulling Alec down. “Of course not.”

Alec’s, “Good,” is barely a sound as their lips reconnect, the kiss a continuation of what had happened in the living room. They’re both too exhausted for anything else but distantly, Magnus thinks he’d be happy if this is all he ever had-- a few minutes kissing Alec at the end of the day.

His own idea of perfection.

Things settle down as quietly as they’d started and when Alec resumes his place on top of Magnus, he seems to lose every bit of tension in his body. His snores fill the room bare minutes later.

Turning his light off with magic-- he doesn’t want to disturb Alec-- Magnus lays in the dark of their room for a few final moments and lets out an easy breath.

There was a time he would’ve killed for something as ordinary as this. There were many other times when he would’ve scorned it in a show of bravado. Now that he has it, however, Magnus can’t ever imagine losing it-- and to his unending gratitude, he’ll never have to.

Falling asleep, Magnus's last thought is that he'd fight every devil and angel combined to end every night just like this.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tumblr or twitter @carmenlire!


End file.
